Maria's eyes
by CallXMeXLight
Summary: Eli will never get over what he's done, he can never be forgiven. Everyday he lives with the burden of his past. But in one day, with one look into that girls eyes and...life's about to change for Mr. Goldsworthy
1. Blue eyes blue

**hey guys, another story written on a whim. i based Eli's character a lot on what i've seen in promo's for the next 2 week so of the boiling point, so tell me what you think please! read and review! Also this WILL be an Eclare...evenutally. i promise 3 Light**

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I wasn't really the guy everyone though I was. I don't Love death, I'm not obsessed. I'm just remembering: remembering what I did to "her". She was my first love, and in the blink of an eye she was gone, because of me. Because I didn't look at the god damn road, because I ran head on into another car ,and killed her.

She'll never know just how I loved her, how much she meant to me, how sorry I was. All because I couldn't pay attention. All because I couldn't be safe.

She used to joke saying I would be the death of her: with my thick sarcasm, stubborn ways and guarded thoughts. If only she knew how right she was.

She'll never know, how badly I miss her. How I fell into a depression after she left this world. How my parents became worried. Or, how I tried leaving this world myself so I could be with her.

I'll never forgive myself for what I did to her. I loved her, but If I loved her so much then why was I not strong enough to keep her alive. It's all my fault.

That night in the hospital, when I saw her body hooked up to all those machines, when the doctor told her parents she wouldn't make it, I knew it was all my fault. I promised myself from that moment on, I would never fall in love again.

I wouldn't' date, woo, court, flirt anything.. Because I knew if I wasn't strong enough to save her, who's to say I wouldn't be strong enough for the next poor, innocent girl who would have the poor misfortune of being with me.

Ever since the accident I've become "someone new" according to my parents. I've always liked black, and I've always had the same style. But when the two came together, along with the anti-social behavior, and the loud metal/rock music well….my folks got worried.

They knew this town wasn't good for me, or for them either. So we left. We packed up our troubles and moved west, to Toronto. Why in hells name we moved to Toronto, I'll never know.

My parents' though I could get a new start at some school called Degrassi. They just wanted me to "fit in" and be happy. My dad even went so far as to buy me a vintage hearse, in hopes of getting me to crack a genuine smile, he got a smirk and a chuckle. He was content.

My parents are great people, my mom was the sunshine of the family the one just radiated light, the one who could make anyone smile or laugh. My dad was a hardworking business man, who accidentally fell in love with the cheery artist girl. My father is a very quiet man, a people pleaser, a man who lives for his family.

But with "her" accident came, "their" accident. Mom couldn't handle it anymore. The loud, dark music blaring from my room, the dreary atmosphere around the house, the feeling of hopelessness, and when I tried to leave this world to be with her, with my Maria. It was the last straw.

It killed my dad inside and out, to know that his high school sweetheart was leaving. But he knew she was unhappy, that she didn't want to be apart of this so-called, dysfunctional family anymore, so her let her be free. No fighting, no yelling, no angry divorce. He let her leave, because this way she was happy. Even if dad wasn't.

Mom left the family a few weeks before dad and I moved to Toronto. I guesse when dad said we'd get a new start here, he was being literal. WE both would have to start anew, without the people we loved.

Dad was surprised at how well I took the divorce, but compared to what I've been through he really shouldn't. If there's one thing I've learned in life it's that no one will always be there for you, that eventually they will leave, that one single person can't love you forever.

My father tells me, that someday he hopes I'll meet a nice girl who will challenge that statement, who will change my way of thinking, who will make me live again. I told him to shut up.

He'll never know what I went through, he'll never understand why I can't love again. Why I shouldn't be allowed to love again. I'm a danger to myself, to everyone around me. One false move, and another unknowing, beautiful girl could be gone.

Never again

I only have two years left of high school, two years left to live out here in this Degrassi place. Two years here, in my new personal hell known as Toronto. I have a feeling I'm going to hate everything about this place.

Dad says to never judge a book by it's cover, and that I shouldn't have a predisposition of hatred towards this place before even setting foot in the new house.

After setting foot in the new house, I think I hate this place even more. The house is to big, to empty, to bright. It remind me of mom. I hate this.

On my first morning of high school Dad tells me to cheer up, to be myself but, a bit more likeable, to make friends and to "live up" the next few years of my live. I walk out the front door.

How can I " live up" my life, when the weight of what I've done is pressing down on me, squishing me, suffocating me everyday. The burden gets harder to endure every moment she isn't around. She was my escape, she was my everything.

And now that she is gone, now that my Maria is gone, I have nothing left.

I feel as if I deserved this numb outlook I have adapted towards the world, like this is a punishment I get for what I've done. Part of the burden I must bear.

It's fair enough.

I loved her

And I will never love anyone as much as I loved her, never again.

She was perfect: a tall girl standing at 5"6, with straight chocolate brown hair, and deep Carmel colored skin. She was a goddess., but her most beautiful, feature were her simply breath taking eyes.

They were the most pure, an untouched shade of blue I have ever seen...a shade I'll never see again.

What a tragic hell it was, when the doctors said she would never open those angelic eyes of hers again, that's when I knew life would never be the same, not without my Maria.

The drive to school was boring, and felt much longer than it actually was. When I came back to my sense's I was already sitting in front of the school, my music blaring and a blank look spread across my face.

This happened a lot, whenever I thought about her

From the corner of my eye I saw two girls, one a short, curvy, Indian girl, with to much make up and the second a pale, curly haired girl who looked to be carrying the whole library in her arms. ( based on the amount of books she was carrying)

They seemed to be fighting with one another, though the fighting was dirupted with the giggles ( though unheard, I could assume they were there), so I was fairly sure they were not mad at one another.

But when the object they were fighting over, somehow flew out of the Indian girls hands and out onto the ground of the parking lot, her friends feared for the worst. ( or so I assume from the freighted facial expression)

Things only got worse when the object landed directly in my path of travel, directly in front of Morty.

With a much louder than I expected crunch, even with my music playing i was able to hear the crunch, Morty has driven over and destoryed whatever the girls has been fighting over.

My heart sank, and I quickly shut off Morty's engine, knowing I'd be in for a bitch trip , I hate teenage girls.

With one last deep breath, and one last moment of silence, I opened my car door and stepped out to face the once giggling girls, who were now defiantly not giggling anymore.

Without so much as looking at either one of them, I walk towards Morty's back right tire and picked up what used to look like a pair of small, oval shaped, golden framed, glasses. Fuck, I just blinded a some random girl on the first day.

Without knowing what else to do, I picked up the glasses and walked towards the two girls, who had both now adopted expressions of terror ( the girl with the books) and apology ( the curvy, Indian girl. Her look, the indian girl, was presumably meant for her counterpart of something of that sort).

Deprived of knowing what else to do, I simply walked up to the girls and extended my hand, broken glasses and all towards both the girls. ( since I am still unaware of who the actual owner is)

With a quick intake of breath, the curly haired girl mutters something along the lines of "..my glasses...".

I feel a pang of sympathy, but that quickly washes away, and I say the only thing that comes to mind to try and comfort her, " I think they're dead." Ok, so maybe I'm not exactly Mr. Sensitive, but at least it was something.

With a deep calming, breath the curly haired curly accepts her glasses from my grip and blushed lightly, when our skin makes contact. Why do girls blush, so much? Touching other people isn't embarrassing.

When I open my mouth of try and apologized, she beats me to it " I-I-I-it's ok….I um, I got laser surgery" as she points to her eyes, "I, um, ah….I don't need them anymore". and then in an attempt to prove her point looks me straight in the eye.

Not wanting to be outdone I look her in the eye as well.

And that's when all hell breaks lose. Her eyes.

They were amazing, one of a kind, deep pools of aqua, the brightest blue I have ever seen, with a slight ring of a silver/grey around the middle. They were perfect.

They were Maria's eyes.

My heart was pounding in my chest, I didn't what to say, what to do….this girl, this girl had Maria's eyes!

I never in my life though I would see such beautiful eyes look at me, ever again.

My head was swimming with thoughs and with a momentary lapse of judgment I say exactly what I was thinking, " you have really pretty eyes." Great, now here in hell hole Toronto I'll be know as a glasses crusher and a freak.

I hate everything

But the girl didn't seem to mind, she blushed profusely and broke eye contact, instead opting to stare at the oh, so interesting sidewalk. I've been here at this school for all of five minutes and already I've made someone hate me. Fuck this.

I decided I've had enough public embarrassment, and turn around striding quickly back to Morty hoping to some karamatic force that she wouldn't spread around that school that I really WAS a freak. I've had enough of that everywhere else I've been, I don't need it here too.

But instead I was pleasantly surprised when, while walking back to Morty. I hear the faint voice of the glasses girl speaking back at me, " So…..I..um, I'll see you around then?" a look of questioning is apparent on her face.

I'm not sure if I should be confused of elated that she doesn't hate me. I'm not exactly sure what is the correct thing to do in this situation is, so I simply nod in conformation and mutter back, " Sure, see 'ya around…".And with one final trademark smirk I get back inside Morty.

I start the engine up once again, and with a final look at glasses girl, and her overly make-uped friend I drive off to find a real parking space.

I have a feeling Degrassi is going to be very different that what I was expecting

And I'm not sure if that's a good or a bad thing quite yet

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**Read and review please!**


	2. Never Say Never

just a quick filler chapter, but thank you to all of my lovely reviewers! you guys are amazing and i seriously love you all! 3 light

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Those eyes, they haunted me for the rest of the day. My mind was still swimming with thoughts and I couldn't get that girl out of my mind. By the time third period came around I felt an unnatural compulsion to go find that glasses girl and at least figure out her name.

But I couldn't. I've gone to far already. We had talked, and that's all that will ever happen. Because regardless of how much her beautiful eyes put me in a daze, just like Maria's did…this glasses girls will never be **my** Maria.

With a loud, deep sigh I look around the hallways. The bell was getting ready to ring and signify the start of the next class. I didn't want to go, I was scared. What if she was in one of my classes? What if we sat next to each other?

I couldn't bear to be around that glasses girl ever again, because I knew if I did... something bad would happen. I just know something bad would happen. I can just tell by her eyes, as if a warnng from Maria herself that this girl is "danger!".

But I couldn't stop thinking about her anyway

Her curly auburn hair, her pale skin, the mountain of books she was carrying….her eyes, and even her glasses that I had crushed. And was it selfish of me, to be somewhat happy that I ruined her glasses? Otherwise those angelic eyes would be hidden from the world, and I wouldn't be able to…..

What the hell am I think? I just met this girl…not even met! I only just ran over her glasses in a parking lot.

She's nothing to me, and she will remain that way. Because I know from past experience, that nothing good can come to girls with eyes like those. And I didn't want to be, I **couldn't** be the one to bring terror into another person's life.

I can't be the cause again. I refuse

My mind and it's morals seem to be fighting with my heart and it's attraction. The internal fight is killing me, but in the end i know what forgeting about her in the only right thing to do. My body now takes over…I can't do this. I couldn't stay here in this school, with these thoughts, with these memories…I have to leave. I need to get out of here, NOW!

And so I did, I picked myself up from where I was sitting in the halls, threw my backpack over my should and just as the bell rang, signaling that class had started, I walked out of the front doors of this so called Degrassi place.

I felt numb, and confused like I always do after thinking of her, of my Maria. I walked straight to Morty, got in, threw my backpack onto the passengers chair, and started the car. I felt a small wave of relaxation hit me when I heard to roar of Morty's engine, and then the loud banging, and thrashing of drums and guitars. indicating that i had left my music on .

With a few soothing deep breaths, I threw the car into reverse and backed up and out of the Degrassi parking lot. Away from the confusion of high school, of cliques, of work, teacher, friends….and a mysteriously charming blue eyed angle who I simply just wanted to ra….

Fuck no! All I want to do about that Glasses Girl, is forget about her! Forever!

I try my best to clear my mind, and instead focus only on the deep, intricate bass line of the music playing in the background. Music. The one thing in my life that HAS always been there for me. It was angry when I was angry, sad when I was sad, happy when I was happy.

The vocalist's always knew exactly what to sing…er, scream. They knew exactly know to verbalize precisely what I was feeling. Music was a sort of therapy for me, after she left. I took to spending hours upon hours, locked awayin my room blaring the most heart wrenching music I could find. And that's all I used to do…

That is until one day, Mom had the day off and was tired of seeing me mope around, with nothing to do but…mope. So she went out and bought me a guitar. The gesture took me by surprise, but I loved that guitar. ( the fact that my mom cared enough to go out and get it for me helped)

After that gift, my mom and I became much closer. Instead of spending hours alone in my room, listening to music I would be with my mother. We would go downstairs to her studio, every night after dinner and she would teach me how to play my guitar. It was hard at first but seeing my mother smile and laugh like that was encouragement enough to keep working.

Now, when I lock myself in my room instead of blaring other bands music…I write my own. I pour my heart out onto the guitar, who I fondly call Luna after my mother. I write lyrics that I would never dare let anyone read, and organize chords and notes into my own heart breaking, and darkly soothing songs.

Who would have guessed that Elijah Goldsworthy was a musician.

I come back to reality, and look at the clock only to realize that I've been driving around for over an hour. I take a look at my surroundings and take notice that all the houses look exactly the same here. Looks like I'll be getting lost a lot around here.

Without anything else to do, I take the next right and try my best to find my way home. I'm sick of driving and just sitting around I need to do something.

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Maybe coming home wasn't the best idea ever. Things are just as dull, only here they are quiet and dull. The house is empty, with dad still at work until 5...I was alone for the next six hours. With nothing to do.

Might as well sleep….


	3. It's Not My Time

i geuss i'm on a roll or something but here's the next chapter of Maria's eyes! and thank you **SO **much to** ALL** my lovely reviews! You guys are the reason these chapters are being put up so quickly! literally you guys make my day! Please keep it up! Also: I don't own Degrassi 3 light

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** It was hot. Very hot. Infact it shouldn't even be possible, for it to be this hot . Let alone be this hot in Canada, in September. Yet somehow it was. The bright blue sky was covered with large, low hanging puffy clouds and a cool breeze swept his namgs into his eyes….it took him a moment to realize it was in fact NOT September at all. Actually judging by his surroundings, it looked more like June.

As he went to push his bangs out of his eyes, his hand collided with another. With a slight jump of surprise, he grabbed the hand and looked to his right to identify it's owner. But when he looked over to the owner of the hand, his breathing stopped. It was her, Maria. All of a sudden their surroundings changed.

They were sitting in his old car. The windows were rolled down, music was blaring, and the sound of Maria's light laughter filled his ears. He knew this moment could never be forgotten. She was smiling her special smile, the one reserved just for him, the one that could practically make his heart stop. Everything was perfect. With the exception of the horrid Styx music playing on the radio, but it made her smile so he didn't mind too much.

They were holding hands, and driving. He remembers that night perfectly, they were out on a run for raspberries, she was going to make tarts for her brother when he came back from university on Friday night.

It's to hot for his liking, this forehead is covered in sweat and black blazers was clinging to his back like a second skin, and felt the need to let her know how much he hated this. How he hated summer, everything about it. She just laughs and leans over to kiss him, and he inexpertly turns his head so their lips meet in a soft, sweet kiss.

But during their quick intimate moment, he forgets about the road, about the car, about traffic. He was focused solely on her, his love. But that was his tragic mistake, with one loud, sharp blast both teenagers turn in time to see a large delivery truck come hurdling towards them on their right. It was to late, he couldn't stop them from crashing…

He fells nothing….no pain.. he is numb

He can taste blood on the inside of his mouth…

He can see the outline of what he desperately hopes isn't his love…

But if only he could hear nothing…but instead his ears are filled with desperate, and anguish filled shrieks of her. Of his Maria, he hears the sounds of her last living breaths….and then slowly she goes silent….

His eyes are now filled with the silent picture of his dead love..

Slowly his world is silent….he sense's are nothing.**

I awake with a start, and quickly try to even my breathing. It wasn't the first time I've dreamt about her death, about that night. It just so happens that said dreams, well more like nightmare, was the sole reason I've hardly slept since the accident 4 months ago.

Though I admit I get a strange high, off seeing her face, hearing her laughing, from feeling her touch…from re-living my last happy moment with her. But if only the dream would end at our kiss…then perhaps I would be able to sleep soundly with heavenly dreams of my beautiful Maria. But life isn't that easy, it never will be.

I look out the window and take notice that during my nap, it started raining…a lot. The streets were flooded with water, the lighting outside was bright enough to illuminate the whole sky, and the thunder loud enough to shake our whole, big, empty house.

At least the weather matched what I was feeling, confusion, anger. And a hell of a lot of both too…

With a quick glance at the small alarm clock at my bedside I realized I slept for almost 4 hours, it was already 3. Well that was one way of wasting time, but I still had two hours till Dad got home and another hour till dinner would be ready.

As boredom began to strike me, I walked over to my bookcase and pulled out a copy of "Frankenstein" by Mary Shelly. The old paper back had seen much better days. The pages were wrinkled, the cover of the book covered in small crease lines, the tips of pages bent on every direction ( from being dog eared over and over again) and the margins of the pages were covered with small scribbling and sticky notes with notes and comments written on them.

I was relaxing to just hold the old book, his favorite book. He even remembers buying it, he was 9 and his grandparents were in town his family was elated, for they never visited much. His grandmother was over the moon to hear, that her only grandson had developed a deep love of reading at such a young age.

And as a reward for sharing such an important interest with her, his grandmother, she took him that night to his very first bookstore. Sure, he had been to the public library hundreds of times but never the bookstore ( mom always said why buy what you can get, or in this case us, for free)!

The store was marvelous, to say the least. It was a quaint little place, with large bay windows out front, deep brown wooden floors, soft warm lighting, and floor to ceiling bookcases covering all but the front wall. An elderly woman sat at desk near the font of the store, with a cash register and a cup of coffee slowly sipping away, and most likely daydreaming.

His grandmother let him roam the store for almost an hour, before asking him to go off and find a book that would suit his likings. She gave him almost another whole hour before finding him curled up on a back corner, with a pile of books as high as he was. I remember her just smiling at the unusual sight, and asking me to pick the one book I loved the most.

Without being able to actually make a decision for my life, I chose the first book atop my large pile. That lucky book atop my pile, just so happened to be my "Frankenstein". What a lucky pick, I had. For my grandmother gave me an approving nod, and led to the front of the store so we could purchase said book.

Who would have guessed that 7 years later, and that same book would still be my favorite. It must have been fate.

I shake the though from my head with a small smile, and set the old book back on the shelf. I jump a little when an unusually loud bang of thunder, erupts from the sky. It was strange to have storms of this kind this late in the year but I wasn't complaining, I loved storms.

And with nothing else to do, and nowhere else to go I walk downstairs to the kitchen. The kitchen was simple, a room filled with the bear necessities and nothing more. Dad was no Mario Batali and neither was I, the majority of the time we had takeout or frozen pizza for dinner.

After a bit of searching I find a pen and a pad of paper and start with writing a quick note for my Dad, telling him I went to library to study and would be home later. Though we both knew it was a lie, as long as I had my cell phone my dad didn't care to much where I was, so long as I stayed out of trouble.

With one final approving glance at my note, it taped it to the freezer ( the one place I knew he would look) and left the house.

I didn't really know where I was going, all I knew is I didn't want to spend another moment alone in that big empty, memory filled house.

I was confused, and so I did what I always did when I was confused…I ran away. Not literally running, because I suck at running, and not running away as in leaving home, because I would never hurt my Dad like that. But running, as in running away from my problems…just trying to forget about my problems by getting away from everything and being on my own for a while.

Back home, when ever I got overwhelmed I would go for a drive to clear my thoughts but now….I can't stand driving anymore. So instead I'm walking, the sound of the rain alone is enough to sooth my weary, troubled mind.

Now the adventure beings, seeing where I'll end up. I have no idea where I am or where I'm going but I really couldn't care less right now, currently my mind is empty and is only focusing on the sound of the rain as it hit's the sidewalk. U try my best to match my breathing to rate of the rainfall and soon, everything is in sync, everything is calm. I finally can honestly say I'm at peace. And I continue to aimlessly wander around this Toronto hell, without a care.

When I come back to reality, I'm soaked to the bone. My hair is sopping wet, and stick to my face and I find myself involuntary shivering. I don't remember it being this cold when I left the house, but I'm not phased much by the weather and I continue on with my wanderings.

I start to worry a bit, when my limbs start to tingle and my lids become droopy and hard to keep open. I have no idea how long I've been walking for, but I'm starting to regret now eating lunch before leaving home. I hear my stomach growl and it only backs up my bodies need to rest, warm up and eat.

But I have no idea where I am. I wasn't keeping track of street names or how many turns I took…I'm lost and I'm freezing. I take a deep breath in and out and try my best to rationalize. This has never happened before, what should I do? Ask on of the neighbors around here for directions? No, that's just weird. Just wander more until I recognize something? Well it's not exactly smart, but it could work. Or, I could just call Dad and ask for a ride home…but I don't want to burden, or worry him.

So it looks like option 2, is my plan, back to wandering. With a quick observation of my surrounding I take notice of a small park to my left, a bench straight ahead of me and in all other direction there are large upscale home.

I jump again, when another blot of lighting flashes in the sky and a clap of loud thunder follows close behind. I'm tired, and my shivering has gotten worse, to the point where I can visibly see my hands shaking.

I probably look pathetic, and feel just as pathetic. The coldness is overtaking my body, I legitimately feel as if I may never be warm again. I fell awful, and I'm probably going to be sick as hell if I ever make it home. And if I'm not that fortunate, well then I'll see Maria soon…

I sight deeply, right now that bench doesn't look half bad, maybe if I just sit down for a moment I'll feel better. I just need a second to converse energy. So I trudge over to the small, grey cement bench and sit down. It wasn't exactly the most comfortable thing every but it was better than the sidewalk.

My eyelids are starting to fell heavier now, and I can now see my breath when I exhale. I honestly don't remember it being this cold when I left the house. Ok, so maybe sitting down for moment won't be enough for me to regain all my energy.

I feel pathetic doing this, and I know I'll be judged as being homeless, but I don't care. I take off my black blazer and wad it into a makeshift pillow and set it near the edge of the bench. I shake my head, and realize that I really going to be in trouble when I get home, but currently I'm to tired to care. I swing my legs up onto the bench, lie my head on my wadded blazer and settle in for a short, sweet nap.

_- *time skip, 15 minutes*_

I feel a weird sensation all over my body as if I'm being carried, but I ignore it, knowing fully well that I'm still asleep on my bench. I feel as if I could sleep for days. I shiver and try to pull my legs closer to my torso, buy there seems to be something stopping me. I shiver again in a futile attempt to stay warm.

_*another time skip, 10 minutes*_

I fell something…..something warm, something very warm. My body instinctively pulls itself closer to the heat in order to stay warm. I can feel another convolution of shivers hit my body and I can fell myself literally shake. I must look like such a mess. I'm not sure I'm this is heaven, or home, I'm to tired to honestly care right now. All I care about is getting as closer to that heat as possibly, I feel like I've been frozen, and I'm being thawed out.

Off in the distance I hear the faint sound of voices, each one very distinct and different from the other. One was soft, quiet and odiously very feminine, the second: higher, a bit shrill, and easily a woman's voice as well and the third: a deep, somewhat rough voice, very different from the other two and most likely male.

My curiosity is getting the best of me and I feel a deep desire to know who these voices belong to, so I can thank them…and them promptly leave.

I try my best for a few minutes, to open my eyes but they're just to heavy and I'm to weak. But on the 4th try I finally manage to open them enough to see a face.

A face I've seen before only once…and a face with eyes I wished I would never have to see again.

The glasses girl was here, at my bedside…..she was the one who has rescued me

And I was going to be forced to explain myself to her now…..

.LIFE


	4. Learning to Fall

hey guys! Sorry for the authors note, normally i hate writing them but i feel i owe you all an apology. I know it's been FORVER since i've updated...and that Eli's dead girlfriend was actually named Julie...but whatever i like Maria, her name came from a song. ANYWHO, i'm SO SORRY it's taken so long normally this is where i would make up an excuse about mu internet not working or something but it has been. Truthfully, i'm a highschool sophmore take 4 college level classes and my couse load is crazy, also i've just turned 16 so things have been pretty hetic with driving around and trying to my my car fixed. I hope you understand and i'll TRY MY SUPER PERSONAL BEST, to updater by Monday at the LATEST!

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My world came to a crashing halt, as the seriousness of the situation settled upon me. I was sick, that I knew for sure. I was in an unknown home, in a unknown bed, with a beautiful blue eyed girl staring at me as if I were about to die at any given moment.

It was starting to piss me off, I knew she meant well but she needed to stop watching me like I was about to die…I was fine, albeit a little cold. I just wanted to get home.

I decided the best thing to do, was to be upfront with the beautiful blue eyed girl. Just tell her I was fine, and I wanted to go home. I didn't have to tell her anything, she doesn't need to know anything.

With a newfound determination, I decided to I should just tell the girl I wanted to go home, now.

But when I was preparing myself to speak to this girl, I was meet with a sharp, burning pain that happened to consume my entire throat. The pain was unbelievable, and suddenly I found myself doubling over in a mad coughing fit, attempting to catch my breath.

I seemed to have shocked the girl a bit, because when I started coughing I saw her visibly jump a bit in her set.

The longer my fit continued, the more concerned this blue eyed girl became. She busied herself by running around the small I was occupying , mumbling to herself about cough drops and chocking. It was actually quite adorabl….

No! no it wasn't! I hardly knew this girl! Besides how is this girl sane? What sane person takes in a sick, soaked to the bone teenage boy they found asleep on a park bench? She must have a death wish, she must be unbalanced. Or just to damn nice for her own good.

Finally with one last, convulsive shake my coughing fit died down, and I was finally able to breath once more. I sat completely still, afraid that one small false move could trigger another fit.

My throat was raw, and my lungs burned from a sever lack of oxygen. I felt exhausted and all I honestly wanted to do, was sleep. I wanted to curl up in my bed back home and sleep.

And not in my new, "home" here in this Degrassi hell. I want to go back to Vancouver, back to our old Victorian house with the big bay windows and the wrap around porch.

I want to go back to my old forest green room, with the floor to ceiling bookcases, and I just want to sleep.

Sleep for years and years to come…..to do nothing but sleep until this Degrassi hell becomes nothing but a figment of another bad dream. Until this Degrassi hell is gone, until my Maria is back in my arms…

I was brought back to reality when the blue eyed girl, now standing in front of me, started speaking.

I had no particular idea what she was saying, the world still seemed a bit dazed and fuzzy to me, it seemed as if she were speaking in slow motion. I opened my mouth, fully intending to ask her to repeat her question, but when the fresh, cool air of the room met my dry, raw throat I quickly dispelled the idea, and instead opted for quirking an eyebrow and giving her a perplexed look instead.

My point was obviously made when the girl walked much closer to my bedside, now opting to actually sit on the bed next to me, and then repeated her question much slower this time, " What in heavens name were you thinking?"

Her voice was honey sweet, just as sweet and tender as the first time we spoke. But what caught me off guard was, in addition to her normally honey sweet tone, was a very stern, albeit motherly, undertone.

She was concerned… But why? She knew nothing of me? She didn't know my name, my grade, anything! For all she knew I could be a killer, a stoner and rapist. And yet here she is nursing me as if I were some sick kitten she found out on a street corner.

I had a deep desire for my eyes to focus so I could properly see her face, her curly hair, her creamy white skin, her eyes… I felt an unnatural, a deep animalistic urge to see her clearly, not in this hazy double vision fog. I wanted to see her face, and I wanted to see it now.

It was then when I realized how ill I must have been, because my body started to act of it's own accordance. Before I knew it, my hand, then my whole arm was moving….moving towards her. Towards her beautiful, flawless face, she was much closer than she needed to be but I didn't mind.

I barley had to extend my arm, before my cold, clammy hand meet her blushing, sorf cheek. She obviously had no idea what to do in this situation, though most girls wouldn't either.

How many times in life dose a sick boy you're nursing back to health, just start randomly caressing your cheek? Obviously I was very ill…

But I didn't care, she was here, she was real. Her body was uncommonly warm, but it was most likely due to her blushing. For a moment everything felt right…

We were just sitting there alone, together. I wasn't worried about Maria, about this Degrassi hell, about my mother, I wasn't worried about anything…

Anything except what I was going to do, to make sure that I saw those beautiful blue eyes as much as possible.

Because in that moment, where we were just sitting there my hand caressing her cheek and my mind working quickly to imprint the picture in itself forever, forever did I realize….

That this girl, that this woman was beautiful. She was breathtakingly beautiful and she was painfully oblivious to it. She was a delicate kind of beauty, the kind where you're almost terrified to touch it, in fear that it may break.

In the back of my mind, I recognized, that I **WAS** in fact that trouble, I** WAS **that danger that could possibly break this timeless beauty into pieces.

But I didn't care, because in that single moment that we shared I knew it was meant to be. If she didn't feel something to, she would've let me know. I had a feeling that this girl, no matter how shy she came off, would've stopped me in an instant and kicked me out if she felt violated or upset.

But she didn't, she sat there motionless, and blushing.

For a brief moment, our eyes met.

Her beautifully intense, sky blue eyes….with a faint ring of grey around the iris

And my dull, lifeless green eyes

And I knew she felt something

And I knew I felt something

After a few minutes she broke away, ,gently pulling my hand off her check and setting it back on the comforter. She looked from my discarded hand, back to my face and blushed slightly….she looked heavenly. With a slight turn of her lips, and a shake of her head she stood up once more and walked to the other side of the room to retrieve a small clear bottle.


	5. Look After You

**i know i'm a terrible person, i promied i would update by monday...and odviously i didn't since this is saturday. i'm sorry...i have no worth while excuse,all i did last weekend was sleep and all this week i was sick and had plenty of time to write but instead i made mix cd's, and skpyed with my sister (she's studying abroad and i miss her like hell). So yeah, i'm a horrible author and i'm sorry but...if it helps can i ask you guys for a favor?**

**normally i do no pre-writing and i write an entire chapter in one setting, and i just write what ever comes to mind...but i've been getting stuck latley. So this is where you guys come in...if you want in your reviews can you give me some idea/s as to where this story should go/ what you would like to see happen/ plot twists ( god, i love plot twits)/ whatever you're thinking...hell if you tell you're favorite flavor of jellybean. mine is cherry in case you were wondering **

_3 (lasy ass) light_

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"You need to take this! You're very obviously sick and not taking the medicine is only going to make you even more ill" She ended her small speech with pursed lips, and a purposefully stare towards me as if trying to prove a point.

I didn't move. I was torn. Though I desperately wanted to do anything to please this wonderfully, innocent girl it would be death of me, to willingly consume any sort of lab, generated, chemical filled "medicine". Just the name itself sounds vial….medicine.

And so a small fight began, should I follow my instinct and reject this angle and her vial, grotesque medicine….or do I, take the medication in mere hopes of making her happy?

What to do….what to d….

Suddenly, an idea stuck me. It was perfect really, very simple .An agreement that was reasonable enough for her to agree upon. With a mental pat on the back, I attempted to pull myself up, off the overly plush mattress, and into an upright sitting position.

My first few attempts were, just that…attempts. At first, I had myself not even a quarter of the way up before losing momentum and slumping back onto the bed.

The second try, though slightly more successful, ultimately failed as well. I wasn't half way up before my throat began to burn, and I was thrown into a raging, coughing fit causing me to lose balance and fall back onto the mattress. Again, no progress was made.

It wasn't until the third try, with the assistance of the Blue-eyed girl, was I able to properly sit up. She put a small, pale hand on my upper- back and another behind my head, as if I were a small child, and slowly helped me rise to a sitting position.

For a moment I was embarrassed, I was almost an adult and here I was stricken with illness harsh enough, to stop me from even pulling myself upright.

I reflected for a moment, on how truly weak I felt. My body was oddly numb, in some obscure median between "just right" and "to cold". My throat was raw, and dry and my chest ached from the most recent of coughing episodes. This was the first time, in a very long time I was truly ill…I dreaded to think how my pare-…how my father would react.

I could have spent the rest of the day with these thoughts, had it not been for the Blue-eyed girls small laugh. It was quite and innocent enough, but it was enough of a distraction to bring me back to my surroundings. I had temporarily forgotten where I was, and who's company I was in…

But, when I snapped my head up to look at her, to see what had caused her charming, laughter, I was greeted with nothing out of the ordinary. Everything was, as it had been merely a few moments ago…I was baffled. The only thing left to her girl to be laughing at was…me?

And once more I was confused. Of course, I was used to people laughing at me, making fun of me, and in general just not accepting who I am. But her? Her laughter was different. There was just something about it…something breezy, and whimsical that made me want to smile and laugh with her.

She was different.

Soon, when she had noticed I was looking at her, her laughter died down and I was once again left wondering what had caused her outbreak. For a moment, she smiled and than lifted her gaze to meet mine.

Our eyes locked, and again dull green meet shinning blue. How I loved her eyes.

She smiled again, and I start to wonder if she acts this way all the time…or if perhaps maybe I'm having an affect on her, like she has on me. I can only hope…

She shakes her head, swiftly side to side, and muttered under her breath, what sounded like, "Silly." Now I am genuinely confused and need more than anything, aside from possibly a cough drop, an answer to her laughter.

I shake the dark, bangs out of my eyes and ask her, simply, "What?"….or so I had intended to ask her. But instead, by response came out in the form of a hoarse, drawn out "Wh…..a…?" Now, I not only look, and feel, but now sound, pathetic.

Her smile quickly fades as she hears my hoarse mutterings, she has a torn look of pity and worry. For a second her eyes dart toward the clear, plastic bottle in her hands and then back to me.

I already know, what she's thinking…and things won't be that easy.

She shakes away the look of pity, and instead turns her attention towards trying to open the small, plastic, medicine bottle. Her pale, nimble fingers try their best to open the childproof seal of the toxic, chemical filled liquid….and I can't help but let a small smile grace it's way onto my face.

She looks adorable, her brow was slightly knit in frustration, her lips once against pursed, and her small fingers trying their best to rip open the seal. I just can't help but smile.

But as her frustration grows, I realize she's coming much closer to actually opening the vial medicine. I know my voice is of no use to me, and though my limbs are weak…by safest plan of action is to some how get the "medicine" away from her.

So I do the only thing I can,…with what very little enthusiasm I had, I throw my arm forwards, as quickly as I can and knocked the horrid, plastic bottle from her hands.

She let a small gasp, in surprise and reeled back. She turned her gaze, quickly from me, to the bottle now laying motionless on the ground, and than back at me. She had a look of astonishment, laying very apparent across her face.

I suppose the last thing she has been expecting, was for the sick boy she was nursing back to health, to violently and swiftly knock the container out of her grasp.

A moment passed as she sat silent, and still confused. I couldn't help but smirk a little, knowing I could get her attention so easily. I could get used to this…

"Wha…what was that for? You had to reason to ju…just knock the bottle out of my hands like that! What if it had been open, you could have made a mess." she kept a stern expression, as she scolded me. And I couldn't help but notice, she never seemed truly angry.

I knew she was expecting an answer, and not just for why I knocked that disgusting, bottle out of her hands. An answers to everything. An answer as to why I was here, who I was, and probably millions of other she had though of on her own.

I took a slow, shallow breath and with one last final burning sensation in the back of my throat I tried to prepare myself for her questions. "I….", my throat was even more raw than I imagined, " I …m….I'm E…El…Eli"

I sounded hoarse, and that she probably understood nothing of what I just said. And it's pathetic to say, but I actually felt a small sense of pride towards myself when finally telling her my name. Telling her finally, who I was.

She looked perplexed…almost stunned for a minute. She obviously hadn't been anticipating me to actually answer her, though I didn't exactly answer her question.

"It's nice to meet you Eli. But knocking the medicine out of my grasp isn't going to stop you from having to take it. You're obviously very, sick and you need this to get better!" she managed to keep an almost sickly, sweet tone while addressing me. It was almost as if she though no more of me than a small child.

And maybe that's what I was to her, a small child….a charity case. Perhaps, she doesn't care to get to know me at all….perhaps this was all just a cruel joke that fate has played upon me.

A deep sense of regret suddenly overcame me…I shouldn't be here. She doesn't care after all…this was all just a mistake.

And maybe it was just the fates changing their minds, but this beautiful girl suddenly noticed my rapid change of expression. And she herself, let a small frown grace her features.

"I'm sorry to sound so maternal. But you, you were….you were so….so cold and weak when we, when Sav brought you in. It's….it's just, that I don't want you to get worse. Please, just take the medicine, it's not that bad I promise" Her tone was lighter this time, more sympathetic, but there was something different this time…she sounded almost, scared.

Could it possibly be that this Angle was honestly worried about my well being? That out of no personal gain for herself, did she take me in and offer to nurse me? How could someone I hardly know, a complete stranger, be so caring and compassionate?

" I wi…I will. But …..but only if yo-" I was cut off by another small fit of coughs ravaging it's way through my chest. The pain in my chest was obviously worsening and I wasn't sure how much longer I could stand it. But thoughts aside, I had to finish my question,

I HAD to ask her." I will….But only if you…if you …..if you, tell me your name"

I felt my smirk only grow wider, as I watched her try and grasp what was going on. We were talking….actually having a conversation.

This time there were no coughing fits, destroyed glasses, evil medicine or anything else to interrupt us. This time, she had to talk.

"I….I'm Clare" she said, as a light blush graced her cheeks.

Clare…..perfect. Absolutely perfect, it fit her like no other name could. It was an older, more old fashion name, and not all that common…but it just seemed right for her. This girl didn't seem, in the least bit, concerned about being "common", or "popular…she was just Clare. Prefect little blue-eyed Clare

And I loved it.

I loved knowing, her. Knowing more about, finding out who she was…and if just a small bit of information like a name can make me feel this way well…

As long as it works it's toxic, artificially generated chemical magic….I may just take that "medicine"

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review please!


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